


We Grew A Little And Knew A Lot

by noxlunate



Series: My Only One [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alpha Derek, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Fluff, M/M, Omega Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 02:42:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8472406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noxlunate/pseuds/noxlunate
Summary: “So, you do like me though?” “No, I hate you and I’ve spent a ton of time and money trying to make you happy for no reason at all.” Derek deadpans and Stiles can’t help it, he smiles blindingly at Derek and leans in, smashing their mouths together. --Or an A/B/O fic that's totally mostly floof





	

**Author's Note:**

> Mild warning for dubious consent purely because there is sex during a heat in this fic and I know certain people do consider that as dubious consent. It's discussed before hand though and everyone consents fully as much as they're able. 
> 
> Also, this might be rough in some spots. It's been sitting on my computer only a couple hundred words from being finished for over a year and I hadn't touched it until [this post](http://sinyhale.tumblr.com/post/151441704324/psa-tumblr-sterek-writers) went around tumblr and inspired me to actually finish a fic and post it.

There’s no shame in being an omega. Not a lot of people are, roughly 10% of the population in fact. Hell, omega’s aren’t a point of shame, so much as a point of pride for most families, considering the fact that they _are_ so rare. Still, Stiles hadn’t exactly been expecting to present as one okay?

It’s not like he was expecting to present as alpha either though. He expected, and has expected his entire life, to present solidly as a beta. He’s not special after all. He’s 148 pounds of solid social awkwardness, hyperactivity and lanky bones. He’s not the alluring, focus drawing, sexual master that omegas are portrayed as in the movies. That’s just… not him, okay? Except for how it apparently is, and how once it happens, it makes fucking _sense_ , and how Scott, Scotty McCall, his very best bud who surprised the entire school by presenting as an alpha at the end of the last semester, is wrinkling his nose, saying “Man, you smell weird.”

“I’m _leaking_.” He says, his tone just this side of frantic. Scott doesn’t make it any better by just staring at him like he’s confused. “I’m presenting you asshole!!! You took sex ed didn’t you?” It’s a highly rhetorical question, considering he and Scott had taken the class together last year. “I’ve got all the signs! The cramping I’ve had the past few weeks, _check_ , the moodswings, _check_ ,” He ignores Scott’s mumbled _“double check”_ because he doesn’t need his best friend pulling any ‘oh those omegas with their hormones’ stereotypical bullshit. “And now, the _fucking self lubrication_. I have _swamp ass Scott._ ” He says, and he’s flailing so hard now that Scott’s looking a little fearful every time Stiles’ arms swing towards his head.

“At least… At least it’s happening during the summer?” Scott asks, cautiously optimistic and Stiles deflates with it, crossing his arms over his chest and doing his best to not look entirely petulant. He’s pretty sure he’s succeeding, except for how he’s totally not. Scott seems to understand though, because Scott is his best friend, Scott is the greatest thing the world ever created, and when he opens his mouth and says “Wanna go get some curly fries and a milkshake?” well, he totally proves it.

Less than an hour later Stiles is squished into the corner of his favorite booth at his favorite greasy old diner, shoveling fries into his mouth while simultaneously trying to inhale his milkshake. Scott had earned his best friend medal today, by going into the omega hygiene section with him before they’d gone to the diner so Stiles is rewarding him by tossing his precious, beloved curly fries into Scott’s mouth across the table.

“And the crowd goes wild as Scott Mccall catches yet another perfectly aimed curly fry using only his mouth.” Stiles says in his best announcer voice before making a weird noise that’s supposed to equate to a cheering crowd. Other people are starting to notice the fact that his pheromones are starting to kick in, and he needs to keep talking to distract himself from the way people keep looking at him. “People are staring, aren’t they?” He asks, because yeah, Stiles can’t ignore them apparently.

“It’s always a big deal when a new omega presents, you know that.” Scott mumbles, scrubbing a hand over his hair. “And you do smell kinda good dude. I mean, I’ve got no, like, urge to mate you or whatever but I mean, it smells nice.”

“I don’t think words can express how happy I am that you don’t wanna take a ride on the Stiles train man. One, because _ew_ , and two, because your girlfriend is kinda terrifying and I don’t want her to like, rip my balls off or something.”

“Nah, Allison and I already discussed the omega tempting alpha thing, and she said it was a bunch of bs so if I ever tried anything with one she’ll murder me because she doesn’t believe in victim blaming. She’s rational like that.” Scott says, looking like even Allison’s death threats are a reason to love her. He’s kind of ridiculous.

Stiles totally appreciates Allison’s mentality though. She hasn’t presented yet, though everyone’s pretty sure she’s going to turn out beta. She’s too sensible, and doesn’t buy the stereotypes of alphas being controlled by their desire to knot every omega who’s pheromones tempt them, or the stereotype of omegas being weak, hormonally driven creatures that need to be taken care of.

“Have I mentioned that I love your girlfriend? You didn’t totally fail at picking a mate.” Stiles says with a grin, bumping his foot into Scott’s ankle under the table. Not that Allison is officially Scott’s mate, but everyone’s pretty convinced they’ll make it official once they’ve graduated. Stiles has already demanded best man-ship at their ceremony, to be honest.

Scott, for his part, just sighs sort of dreamily and says “Yeah.” like he can’t believe he managed to land his girlfriend.

_____________________________

The Hale barbecue is kind of the event of the summer. Half the town seems to be invited to it, including Stiles, though Stiles is pretty sure it’s only because Talia Hale is fond of his Dad and Stiles is a friend of Scott’s. The Hales have treated Scott like an unofficial member of their pack since he got bitten, and Stiles being Scott’s pack means he gets invited to eat copious amounts of meat and join all the other teenagers there in trying to sneak beers out of the coolers.

It’s usually one of the best parts of summer. He gets to hang out with Scott and eat a ton of steak and watch his Dad joke around with other adults while most people ignore Stiles because he’s not a wolf and he hasn’t presented yet. He looks forward to it, though he also kind of forgets that he’s been blasting off newly presented omega pheromones for the past three weeks and well, no one ignores that. Everyone’s acting like they are, like there’s nothing different about Stiles than there has been for the past few years that he’s been coming to the barbecue with his dad. Still, it’s pretty easy to see the glances people are shooting his way, and the way the alphas there are not-so-subtly sniffing the air every time they move past Stiles. It’d be hysterical if it were happening to someone else, but it’s not, it’s happening to Stiles.

It sucks.

He’s nearly at his breaking point when Laura- Gorgeous, smart, _Alpha_ Laura- freaking Hale, sits down next to him. “So Little Stillinski is all grown up, I see.” She says, smiling big and bright and Stiles feels a little like she’s a shark who’s about to eat him.

“Uh no? I mean, yeah? I mean, I guess?” Stiles says, not sure how he’s supposed to answer that. Laura’s kind of intimidating. She’s nice and all, and he’s pretty sure he’s never met a person who doesn’t like the eldest of the Hale siblings, but she’s also _terrifying._

“You’re precious.” She says and she’s still smiling with too many teeth and Stiles can’t help but fidget under her gaze.

“Uh, thanks? I think?” He’s sort of desperately glad that Laura’s already mated or else he’d be worrying about her eating him or something and he might end up saying something about it and embarrassing himself. Not that it’d be the first time, but still, it’d be kind of cool if he could somehow harness the ‘omega, too cool for everyone but my alpha’ vibe that some people have. He’s pretty sure Lydia managed to harness that ability when they were 7, a full 7 years before she even presented. He won’t, is pretty sure that’s an impossibility, but hey, a guy can wish right?

“Are there any prospective alphas that have caught your eye?” She asks, looking every inch curious and Stiles just sort of blinks at her, before his brain catches up and yeah, okay, people get weirdly curious about omegas. They’re always the hot topic of any town when they first present. It’ll fade eventually, but for now Stiles has to suffer through people wanting to know who he’d like to fuck. It’s a little uncomfortable. Just a wee bit.

Then again, this could totally just be a Laura thing. Stiles is by way of Scott and his Dad some sort of pack adjacent, and over the past few years he’s known the girl she’s been ridiculously nosey. She just seems to like _knowing_ things, and making people uncomfortable to know those things.

“Uh, I just presented like a couple weeks ago? So no, nah, definitely not.”

“Heather had only been presented for a week and a half when I started courting her.” Laura says with a shrug, flapping a hand dismissively.

“She was also already almost 18.” Stiles says with a shrug, because everyone remembers Laura and Heather’s epic whirlwind romance. They’d courted for barely six months before Laura had claimed Heather. Stiles is only sixteen though, and doesn’t really want all the pressure that comes with being a mated omega yet. That shit’s ridiculous, and he’s still in _high school_. He’s pretty sure he’s not supposed to be planning a claiming ceremony at the same time he’s trying to pass high school.

“I suppose you’re right. Just don’t discount anyone because you’re young.” Laura says, suddenly slipping into the advice giving older friend role instead of the terrifying as fuck role she’d had before. Though both roles terrify Stiles, so really, he’s not sure which is better.

Suddenly, Derek in all his frowny caterpillar bebrowed glory is standing next to her, shaking his head at his sister. “Stop scaring the poor omega, Laura.” And Stiles isn’t offended okay? Except for how he totally is and he frowns and shakes his head.

“I’m not scared.” He says, crossing his arms over his chest and he’s like 99% sure he looks like a petulant little kid but he doesn’t care, because acting like omegas need to be protected by big strong alphas is douchebaggery in it’s highest form and no amount of Derek’s hotness makes up for that. “Also I’m not some poor little omega who needs someone’s protection.” And he knows he’s being irrational, really, he does, but well, he can blame it on the mood swings.

Derek for his part just looks confused as hell, and he’s just standing there staring at Stiles like Stiles is the most confusing person in the world with his eyebrows flat across his face and his mouth open like he’s about to say something. He snaps it shut after a moment, opens it again and then repeats the entire process all over again before shaking his head and walking away. Stiles is left mildly baffled as Laura shakes her head, mutters something about Derek being a moron and walks away, leaving Stiles all to his lonesome.

Great. Embarrassing himself in front of the Hales had not been on his agenda today.

———————————————————————————

Stiles wakes up halfway through the summer to obnoxious knocking on his front door. He grumbles about being woken up at ridiculous times (2 pm during the summer is _ridiculous_ , okay?) and throws himself out of bed, tumbling down the stairs and to the door.

“This better be good because you’re interrupting Stiles time.” He says as he’s swinging the door open, finding a disgruntled looking delivery man holding a truly huge Edible Arrangement on the other side.

“Delivery for Stiles Stilinski.” The man says, shoving the arrangement and a little machine at Stiles for him to sign. Stiles is in just enough shock that he does so without any comment and stares as the delivery man leaves, looking like he truly has the worst job in the world.

Stiles is still in surprise as he carries the thing inside, and seriously, it’s fucking _huge_. Stiles is convinced it’s practically the size of him, with enough fruit and chocolate that it makes Stiles’ mouth water, and he doesn’t even bother reading the card before he’s shoving a piece of pineapple in his mouth and groaning. He’s pretty sure this is better than sex.

Not that he knows from experience, but still.

He’s devoured at least a dozen pieces of fruit from the bouquet before he finally unfolds the note attached, curious as to who would spend so much money to keep Stiles in fruit filled omega craving bliss.

_‘My dad (and a bunch of books) say that cravings for stuff like this can be pretty intense in the months leading up to first heat._

_Sorry for accidentally implying you were weak._

_Derek Hale’_

Stiles blinks, mouth open a little as he stares in confusion from the note to the arrangement and back again. He eats three pieces of honeydew, a plain strawberry, a chocolate covered strawberry and a piece of pineapple before he repeats the motion of looking back and forth again.

Stiles has been called stupid before, but he’s got the I.Q. tests to prove that wrong. He _knows_ what this is.

 _‘Is your brother courting me?’_ He sends Cora, after he’s demolished at least another dozen pieces of fruit and probably moaned obscenely enough that his neighbors think he’s getting laid. It’s going to be seriously awkward to eat this stuff around his Dad, but he figures his Dad’s an alpha, his Mom was an omega, and Stiles is only half as weird as she was, so he oughta be used to it.

 _‘What????Why?????’_ Cora texts back, followed by another text that’s just a string of question marks. He’d be offended if he hadn’t known Cora since they were both tiny and their Mom’s coordinated playdates for the two of them. Cora had pushed him in the sand a lot and stolen his toys, but she’d also punched a kid in the face for him, so really, he’s pretty sure they’ve always been friends. Plus he knows she’s kind of terribly disturbed by the idea of any of her siblings courting someone. She still makes gagging sounds over Heather and Laura.

 _‘He sent me one of those fruit arrangement thingies. It’s like, bigger than you are. Also he defended me against your sister awhile back.’_ He texts back, trying to decide if he can eat any more fruit without exploding. He decides he can’t, and mournfully puts it in the fridge before texting again. _‘He also apologized.’_

 _’Yeah, but why’s he courting YOU?’_ Cora texts back and Stiles frowns until Cora follows up with a _‘:p’_

_‘You’re a dick. I shoulda texted Scott about this. He’s way more supportive.’_

_‘Scott hates Derek. He’d throw away your fruit for the principle of it.’_

_‘He wouldn’t.’_ Stiles replies, even though he thinks Scott might. Scott seems to love the rest of the Hales, and the Hales love him, but he and Derek haven’t gotten along since they were little kids. _‘I need this fruit. This fruit brings me life.’_

Cora’s next reply doesn’t come for five minutes. _’I just told Derek you said that and he looks constipated as fuck. Omg he is courting you.’_

 _‘I TOLD YOU!!!!!’_ He pauses, follows up with _‘WAIT, HE IS?’_ Because he’d thought it okay? And he likes to think he’s smart, but he didn’t really _believe it_. Derek Hale is well, Derek Hale. He could court any omega he wanted.

_’Dude, you’re the one who said he was courting you. I just confirmed. His EYEBROWS have confirmed it Stillinksi.’_

_‘You suck. Goodbye. Sayonara. Hasta Lavista. I’m going to drown myself in chocolate and not think about this omega bullshit. No alphas allowed now.’_

_‘Hey, I’m not an alpha.’_

_‘Oh, you will be. You. Will. Be.’_

_‘Idiot.’_

_‘GOODBYE.’_

Cora doesn’t reply again, so Stiles takes that as her agreement and goes to sleep for another hour and ignore what the book his Dad gave him calls his ‘body’s natural changes.’

—————————————————————————

Stiles is about 99% sure that the first year after a new omega presents is designed to be pure torture. There’s no other reason for him to be enduring this level of hell. It’s not like the cramps, the mood swings, and the cravings (all apparently signs of his body’s “changes” and all apparently going to last until he goes through his first heat) weren’t enough, he has to deal with this shit. This shit being the Annual Beacon Hills Omega Ball where all the omegas who’ve presented in the past year are rounded up and paraded around. It’s apparently been a thing for over a century, or so Stiles is told when he protests that this is a seriously awful and antiquated tradition and he wants no part of it.

It’s _awful_. He tries to worm his way out of it, but apparently being the son of the Sheriff means he kind of has to.

He decides, midway through a dance practice for the damn thing that it’d be almost acceptable if all he had to do was show up instead of learning some ridiculous dance, attending awful etiquette lessons, and getting fitted for a fucking _suit_. It’s white. Of course it’s white, because this awful tradition was started before anyone Stiles has ever met was born, and all omegas were supposed to be presented as virginal until they were mated.

His feet have been stepped on at least four times when he finally snaps and pushes his assigned escort away, an alpha about an inch shorter who’s a total dickbag and who keeps “accidentally” grabbing Stiles’ ass while they dance.

“Nope. No. Nada. _Nope_.” He says, flailing a hand and glaring daggers at the guy (Tim? Tom? Theo? He didn’t pay attention to his name, the dude seemed like such an asshole. Travis seems like a skeevy enough name though, so he settles for referring to him as that in his mind.) “I’m getting my own escort.”

Mrs. Martin, the person in charge of this whole shindig looks a little shocked by is outburst, but nods nonetheless and gives a sharp look to Travis. He thinks maybe she’s caught on to the dick’s wandering hands. “You’re excused. Mr Stillinski can continue on with an escort of his own choosing.” She says, before looking towards Stiles. “Have one picked by next practice.”

And just like that, Stiles is faced with the brand new task of finding himself an escort for a bullshit coming out ceremony. Fuck. Well, at least he gets to miss the rest of practice.

———————————————————————

The fact that his text of _‘I need In-N-Out like burning’_ to Derek is followed less than a half hour by the alpha showing up in his doorstep with a bag of delicious smelling food goes a long way to proving that Derek is actually trying to court Stiles in his own weird, nonverbal, non communicative way. Of course, the half dozen things he’s received from the older boy since the fruit arrangement have done that too, but at the moment a pile of greasy food is much more important in proving it.

He leads Derek into the kitchen without much more than a “Hi, _thank you_.” as he’s stuffing french fries into his mouth straight out the bag. Derek looks a little fond, but also like he’s pained by the fact that he feels fond. It’s a feeling that Stiles is pretty familiar with picking out in people. His Dad has sported the same one since Stiles was tiny.

“Cora made Scott tell her what you eat from there.” Derek says, very very slowly inching closer to Stiles. He’s pretty sure he can see the guy’s nostrils flaring a little.

“Alright, c’mon big guy, get in here for a whiff of eau de Stiles. I know you alphas can’t resist my sweet sweet omega smellyness.”

Derek looks even more pained than before, but he does let himself step in close to Stiles, press his nose to Stiles’ shoulder and inhale. Finally, when Stiles thinks he’s stood still long enough for Derek to do whatever weird sniffy thing he needs to do he grabs Derek’s wrist and drags him to the living room.

“C’mon, if you’re going to be wooing me, you’ve got to y’know, actually spend time with me that doesn’t involve the buffer of your sister or other various members of your ginourmous family. ”

“Technically, once I’ve declared my intention to court you we’re supposed to have a chaperone.” Derek says, and he sounds serious, but there’s a twitch to his mouth that Stiles knows means he’s not actually serious.

“Yep, and that’s as antiquated as the omega ball thingy. No one does the chaperone thing anymore. My _mom and dad_ didn’t even do it. That’s how outdated it is.”

“Omega ball thingy?” Derek asks, scrunching his nose up a little at Stiles’ wording.

“Yeah, otherwise known as Beacon Hills Annual Omega Ball. It’s like one of those weird deb balls but _worse_.”

“It’s tradition.”

“Oh well, if that’s the case. Everything that’s tradition should be continued. Nothing bad has ever been tradition.”

“It’s how my parents met. My Mom was my Dad’s assigned escort.” Derek shrugs, seemingly unbothered by Stiles’ hatred over the very way his parents met. Which okay, is maybe not so bad when thought of like that. If Derek’s parents hadn’t met, there would be no Derek, and Derek is currently in Stiles’ Top Five Favorite People because of his recent penchant for providing Stiles with food at a moments notice.

“Okay, maybe it’s not truly awful. Still, it means taking a serious hit in my summer sleep time to go to the practice things and my assigned escort wouldn’t stop grabbing my ass.” He pats Derek’s knee when he growls. “Which, speaking of escorts, I need a new one. I’ve nominated you for the task, and guess what, you’ve also been voted into it by a voting party of me. Congratulations Derek Hale, you’re my new escort.”

Stiles isn’t sure what he expects, maybe some sort of fight or having to convince Derek to do it. He doesn’t expect the alpha to nod like it sounds perfectly reasonable and say “Okay, send me the practice schedule.”

Well, that was easier than he expected. It’s somehow equally as easy to corral Derek into the corner of the couch with his arm around Stiles’ shoulder to watch movies until his Dad gets home and Derek flees.

Sometimes this omega thing isn’t _too_ awful.

—————————————————————————  
_  
Cora: Holy shit, how’d you manage to get Derek to agree to be your escort?_

_Stiles: I just told him he had to be my escort. Pretty simple actually._

_Cora: Dude, no, not that simple. Mom’s been trying to convince him to volunteer as an escort since he presented._  
_Cora: He just told Mom he needs to be fitted for a suit!!!_  
_Cora: I think Mom’s gonna cry. Dude, you’re apparently a God. Mom’s trying to figure out what the hell would make him change his mind._  
_Cora: I told her it was a scrawny omega who’s got his knot all in a twist._  
_Cora: Neither of them look pleased with that answer._

_Stiles: Rude. So rude Cora. You’re fired._

_Cora: You can’t fire me._  
_Cora: Derek would frown even more if the dude he’s pining over hated his family._  
_Cora: You wouldn’t wish that on the world._

 _Stiles: He wouldn’t mind if I hated you._  
_Stiles: Everyone knows Laura is his favorite._

_Cora: Lies and slander._

——————————————————  
_  
Scott: Dude, why is Allison saying that Derek’s your new escort?_

 _Stiles: Because he is._  
Stiles: Surprise?  
  
——————————————————————

 

Needless to say, Scott doesn’t take it very well. He goes all growly and alpha-y and Stiles rolls his eyes at him eight million times and tells him to calm down about a billion before he finally listens to reason.

“I still don’t like it.” Scott says, once Stiles has managed to talk him down.

“You really don’t have to. I like him.” Stiles says, shrugging, because he loves Scott okay? Scott is his best friend in the entire world, and he loves him to death, but at the same time, he likes Derek, and he’s not going to let Scott and Derek’s weird issues ruin whatever is happening there.

Scott seems to deflate and nods. “Okay. I guess I have to trust your instincts that Derek’s who’s right for you. I mean, you had to trust me with Allison.” The ‘Even though she’s an Argent’ is left unsaid, though Stiles had totally brought that up when the two started dating. Even though he now loves Allison to death.

“Hey, you’ve got the werewolf smell your mate powers. Who can argue with that?” Stiles bumps his shoulder to Scott’s, before tugging him into a totally manly brotastic hug that involves a lot of squeezing and nuzzling his face into Scott’s shoulder. It’s awesome. “Thanks though, for agreeing to trust me on this. And y’know, it couldn’t hurt if you tried to be a little friendly with him. We’re not little anymore. He stole your truck like 12 years ago dude, it might be time to let it go.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll work on it.” Scott says, and Stiles knows that means he really will try. Scott would do damn near anything for the people he loves, and Stiles is pretty lucky to count himself among those people.

——————————————————

Beacon Hills Annual Omega Ball turns out to be surprisingly less bad than Stiles thought it would be. There’s seven other omegas this year, and Stiles is one of two guys, but it’s not 110% awful. Even if he hates his suit. Besides, he gets to see his Dad look horribly awkward in his own suit before he leads Stiles around when they call his name and then deposits him in front of Derek.

Derek, who looks like a fucking _model_ in his perfectly fitting suit and his eyes that keep looking at Stiles like he wants to eat him.

Stiles is sort of uncomfortably turned on by the sight, to be honest.

“My very own dreamboat.” Stiles mumbles as Derek leads him away and towards the receiving line, his arm warm and making Stiles feel a little floaty where it’s tucked against Derek’s.

“You’re ridiculous.” Derek mumbles back, but his lips are totally betraying him where they twitch just slightly on the side.

“Yep, and you totally like me for it.” Stiles is pretty confident about that fact. Derek wouldn’t have gone through this hell, and the hell of the practices they’ve had to endure beforehand, if he didn’t like Stiles. It had to have taken some feelings to let Stiles stomp on his toes repeatedly.

Derek looks like he wants to say something back, but snaps his mouth shut as they reach the line of people that for some reason want to say hello to all eight omegas that have presented that year. Stiles does his best to grin and bear it, shaking hands with people and accepting the occasional hug and answering questions about his plans for his future (He’s not sure if he’ll mate anytime soon. He’ll be finishing high school and figuring out college before then. No, thank you, he doesn’t want to be set up with your alpha son or daughter.)

It feels like hours later when he’s finished and he drags Derek into the nearest secluded spot he can find, jaw aching from smiling and palm a little sweaty from shaking so many hands.

“This omega thing is hard.” He mumbles, pressing his face into Derek’s chest and twisting his hands into the sides of his suit jacket, inhaling the solid, safe, scent of alpha and doing his best to let it wash over him, to let it calm his frayed nerves, to let it soothe the very beginnings of a panic attack he can feel creeping in if he’s not careful.

“You did good.” Derek’s voice is a little soft, like he’s doing his best to sound soothing for Stiles as his hands rub up and over his back.

“So, you do like me though?” Stiles asks, returning to a previous conversation even though it’s not like Derek hasn’t been pretty obvious.

“No, I hate you and I’ve spent a ton of time and money trying to make you happy for no reason at all.” Derek deadpans and Stiles can’t help it, he smiles blindingly at Derek and leans in, smashing their mouths together.

It’s quick, and Stiles accidentally bumps their noses together more than their mouths connect but then Derek is pulling back a little, sliding a hand under Stiles’ jaw and tilting his head just so before he leans in to kiss him again and yeah, this time it’s pretty much perfect.

A half hour later he rejoins everyone else, hand in hand with Derek, feeling a little like he probably has stubble burn and swollen lips but very very satisfied with his night.

—————————————————————  
  
Cora: What did you do?  
Cora: Derek is smiling.  
Cora: HE’S HUMMING.  
Cora: SEND HELP, HE JUST WENT TO THE KITCHEN TO MAKE HIMSELF FOOD AND HE OFFERED ME SOME.  
Cora: DID YOU TWO HAVE SEX?  
Cora: Wait, don’t answer that.

_Stiles: Oh my god Cora, NO, WE DID NOT HAVE SEX.  
Stiles: He seems happy though? _

_Cora: Like, unbelievably so._

_Stiles: Man, we just made out a little.  
Stiles: Imagine what his reaction’ll be when we do have sex?_

_Cora: GROSS._  
  
—————————————————————————  
_  
Stiles: Isn’t this whole courting thing supposed to involve actual dates?_

_Derek: Kinda, why?_

_Stiles: Because I’d like some. Dates, that is._

_Derek: Ok… When?_

_Stiles: Friday. Plan something awesome oh alpha, my alpha._

_Derek: ass. Ok._  
  
And really, getting Derek to agree to a date was way easier than Stiles expected it to be.

—————————————————————————

Derek shows up Friday evening looking way too hot to possibly be there for Stiles, in one of his stupid henleys and a leather jacket and yeah, Stiles has gotta be dreaming. This can’t be his life.

His Dad ends that notion by very loudly clearing his throat and setting his gun down dramatically on the kitchen counter. Yep. Totally his life.

“Dad, can we _please_ not threaten the only alpha that wants to date my skinny omega ass?” Stiles asks once he’s managed to get Derek to wait in the living room and coralled his dad in the kitchen.

“What? I’m not threatening anyone.” and Stiles’ Dad has his most innocent expression on, like he’s not trying to scare Derek away. Stiles doesn’t believe it for a second.

“You’re like ten seconds from sitting down in there to clean your gun and asking Derek about his intentions and after that it’s only a few minutes until the ‘if you hurt him’ speech and a reminder about curfew, I can _feel it_. That’s threatening!”

“I’m not threatening.” the Sheriff says, raising his hands in front of him in a surrendering gesture. “I’m promising that if the kid hurts you I’ll lock his ass in jail for a couple nights and Talia probably won’t even be mad at me.”

“She really wouldn’t be.” Derek says from behind Stiles, and Stiles flails in surprise, nearly falling forward.

“Sneaking up on people is rude.” He says as Derek grabs the back of his shirt to keep him upright.

“I didn’t sneak up on you. Pay more attention to your surroundings.”

“Some people don’t have alpha hearing and werewolf hearing. Make some noise when you move behind people dude.”

“Don’t call me dude.”

“Sure thing big guy.”

Stiles grins, Derek’s lips twitch into a smile and Stiles isn’t paying any attention to his Dad’s groaning.

“Alright, you two get out of here.” His Dad says, seemingly sick of the looks Stiles is now shooting Derek. Stiles likes to think they’re ‘we’re totally gonna make out a ton because _your smile’_ looks. “Make sure he’s home before curfew and don’t let him convince you to do anything illegal.”

“I would _never_.” Stiles insists, shaking his head. “I’m offended you think I’d try to get an upstanding citizen like Derek to do anything illegal. I’m the son of a sheriff.”

“Mhm, sure. Go on your date kiddo. Have fun.” He says and ruffles Stiles hair before nudging them both out of the kitchen.

“Bye dad! Love you, I promise not to get pregnant!” Stiles shouts as Derek leads him out the door and into the Camaro.

“When your Dad kills me I want it stated in my obituary that you’re the cause of death.” Derek says, shaking his head at Stiles as he pulls the Camaro out of the driveway and onto the road.

“My Dad’s not gonna kill you. He’s known you since you were a baby. My mom loved you. If for no other reason than that there will be no death.”

“I think he would. I think you’re his only kid and you’re only sixteen and he’d murder me if I impregnated you.”

“Oh god don’t say it like that. _Impregnate_. That sounds so clinical.” Stiles screws his face up with his words though his expression quickly changes into something more amused at Derek’s pained expression. Stiles is pretty sure if he wasn’t worried about crashing with Stiles in the car he’d be slamming his head into the steering wheel.

“You’re awful.”

“You’re dating me, so really it’s your fault. Besides, we might not even ever sleep with each other. You might like me better as an obnoxious friend slash friend of your little sister who you wish would go away. It could happen. I get tiring, I know it.”

“That’s not gonna happen.”

“The sleeping together or the deciding you like me better as your little sister’s obnoxious friend who even she tells to go away sometimes?”

“The second. Stop acting like you’re not- I don’t know, attractive, wantable, whatever the hell it is you seem to think you’re not.” Derek’s eyebrows are doing this weird thing where they look part concerned and part irritated and Stiles thinks he kind of wants to press his lips between them and smooth them out with his thumbs.

“It’s not like people tend to be into me big guy. Up until the whole omega thing I was kinda a bottom of the totem pole kinda guy. Even as an omega people don’t seem to be wanting a piece of the Stiles action. I’m kinda awkward if you haven’t noticed and without the hormones I’m pretty sure no one would wanna be all up in-“ He’s suddenly cut off by Derek’s hand over his mouth and Stiles just now notices that Derek’s pulled the car over to the shoulder, which is good, because Stiles doesn’t want to die in a car crash because Derek had to physically shut him up.

“I liked you before you presented.” Derek says, and Stiles licks Derek’s hand to try and get him to let go so he can call _bullshit_ on that, but Derek keeps his hand firmly there so Stiles does his very best to express his utter disbelief with only the top half of his face. “Stop looking at me like that. I did. I’m not into you just because you’re an omega.”

“Why?” Stiles asks, the second Derek’s hand is removed from his mouth.

“What?”

“Why? Did you like me, that is.”

Derek shrugs his shoulder, looking like he’s not sure how exactly to say whatever it is he wants to say. “Because you’re you. You’re Stiles. You’re all at once the most frustrating, annoying person I’ve ever met -and I have Laura as a sister- and the kindest, most loyal, smartest person I know. Everyone who isn’t trying to steal you out from under me is a fucking idiot.”

Stiles smiles, bright and brilliant and with his heart practically in his throat he’s so happy and then proceeds to stab himself painfully with the gear shift as he tries to climb across the car to suck Derek’s face.

Derek, the asshole, laughs at Stiles’ _totally manly_ squeak of pain. Stiles sticks his tongue out at him before he flops back into his seat with a harumph.

“I was gonna kiss you but now I’m not gonna since you’re a jerk.”

“I was being sweet and this is the thanks I get?”

“Yep. Now onward, take me on this date you’ve got planned jerkface.”

Derek doesn’t reply other than to start the car again and Stiles sets to fiddling with the radio immediately.

A few minutes later Derek’s slowing the car to a stop at… The Hale house?

“This is supposed to be a date, not you pawning me off on your horde of family members. Last time I was here like three of your cousins wrapped themselves around my legs. I was stuck there for like 30 minutes.” Stiles wags his finger at Derek, like it’ll make his point better. Not that he minds Derek’s family. Stiles loves the Hales, okay? _No one_ dislikes the Hales, except for like, half the Argents, but hunters don’t count because Stiles is convinced most of them are insane. Still, a real life date had sounded nice and Stiles can subject himself to tiny werewolves any ol’ time.

“Good thing my horde of family members aren’t here then.” Derek says, climbing out of the car and coming around to open Stiles’ doors like they’re in some sort of movie set in the 1950s.

Stiles resists the urge to clutch his chest and exclaim _‘Oh Danny!’_ only because he’s not willingly casting himself as Sandra Dee and instead raises his eyebrows in disbelief. “You’re telling me that somehow, someway, _none_ of your family is here tonight? That’s a thing that happens?” He asks as he manages to get out of the car without _too_ much flailing involved.

“Yes, Stiles, that is a thing that happens.”

“Where are all eleven billion of them then?” Stiles asks, because seriously, there’s like a hundred Hales and it feels like most of them live at the main Hale house most days. It’s mind boggling that _none_ of them would be at the house.

“Laura and Heather are at their own house for once, I think Uncle Peter took his mate and kids on some weird spa vacation thing, Cora’s at whatever class she takes on Friday nights where she gets to hit people, Noah’s at a movie, and Mom and Dad took the rest of them out for dinner and ice cream.” Derek says with a shrug, tugging Stiles towards the house.

“Cora doesn’t need classes on hitting people, she’s already too mean.” Stiles says, allowing Derek to drag him along and into the house for their date.

——————————————————————————

Stiles is forced to accept that his heat is going to come pretty soon about a week before school starts. The signs are there, but the final blow comes from his doctor at his check up when the woman says “well sweetie, it looks like you’re all set to go into heat pretty shortly. I’d say end of the month at the latest.”

“But I’m supposed to have a year.” Stiles whines, and he _knows_ he’s whining, but he can’t help it.

“Not necessarily. Within a year is the common expectation, and within a few months is fairly common as well. Everything’s actually progressing as it should be Stiles.”

“Maybe the tests are wrong?” Stiles tries, because he’s just getting used to the omega thing okay? He’s not _ready_ for his heat to hit. He’ll have to get shots, and finish setting up a place to go through it and talk to Derek. Shit, he’s going to have to _talk to Derek_.

“They’re not.” His doctor says, fixing him with a look. It’s the look only a doctor who’s treated him since he was an infant can give, the look of someone who’s dealt with Stiles and his many issues for over a decade and a half. “Talk to your Dad, consider your options and once you have call me and we’ll get you set up with suppressants or birth control depending on what you pick.”

Stiles shudders at the mention of suppressants but agrees. He’s quiet for the rest of his appointment, stuck in his thoughts and not paying much attention.

——————————————————————————

“Hey, so like, you still like me and are happy you’re doing this courting thing and stuff right?” Stiles questions from his spot on the Hale’s couch, his feet tucked up in Derek’s lap and his pre-calc book in his lap. Stiles is supposed to be doing homework, but it’s pretty safe to say that he hasn’t managed much.

“Yeah, though this question is making me start to regret it.” Derek says, and Stiles knows he’s joking but he kicks his thigh anyway.

“Don’t be a dick, I’m having a moment here.” Stiles’ words seem to have the effect of making Derek’s entire expression go soft and concerned and before Stiles knows it he’s being dragged into the older boy’s lap. He protests only a little, and only by shoving at Derek’s shoulder and not even because he doesn’t like Derek’s lap, only because manhandling is _rude_ Derek, not everyone is a caveman werewolf and okay with just being dragged around.

“What’s wrong?”

“I had to go to the doctor today.” Stiles says, and Derek’s expression turns so concerned that Stiles gets distracted for a moment with wanting to press his lips to the furrow between his eyebrows so that it smooths out. It’s a pretty common distraction for him, to be honest. “It’s nothing bad, I swear! Don’t make that face. She just wanted to give me a check up now that the omega bomb has dropped and all that and Dad wouldn’t let me put it off any longer.”

“You shouldn’t be putting off seeing the doctor…”

“Excuse a guy for having issues with doctor’s offices. They’re not exactly my favorite place, even if my doctor is pretty cool.” She still gave Stiles’ superhero stickers. She was pretty rad as far as medical professionals went.

“What’d she say that has you all weird though?”

“Can’t a guy be weird just because of a phobia?”

“Not like this.”

“Okay, okay. She said I’m about ready for heat. Like, by the end of the month ready. Like, a couple weeks from now ready.” Stiles is terribly tempted to close his eyes so he’s not watching Derek, or press his fingers over his eyes and peek through like a kid because whatever reaction he’s expecting from Derek is not what he ends up getting. Derek just raises an eyebrow, looking utterly unfazed.

“That’s it?”

“Yes, _that’s it_!” Stiles shoves at Derek’s shoulder hard, frowning when Derek doesn’t react to the shove. Stupid werewolves. “Excuse me for being nervous about spending a week feeling like I’m on fire literally for your dick… Not that I’m saying you’re going to be there in person for the me being on fire part. That part is up to you obviously. You are under no pressure to be there. This is a pressure free zone, yep.” He flails a little, popping the p in yep like an _idiot_.

“Do you want me to be?” And Derek looks nervous, like he thinks maybe Stiles doesn’t want him to be there which is _crazy._

“Uh yeah, I do. _Duh_.”

“Yeah?”

“ _Yes_ , of course, you jerk.”

“Okay. Okay, good.” Derek’s expression is slowly turning into something pleased and Stiles is convinced that he’s a _giant dork_.

“So, you’ll, uh, y’know, be there… then?”

“No, I’m going to leave my boyfriend to deal with his first heat by himself.” Derek says, all sarcasm and Stiles can’t be irritated by it because he gets a horrible flutter every time Derek refers to him as his boyfriend. Plus sarcasm is a great look on Derek in Stiles’ humble opinion.

“Jerkface.” Stiles says with absolutely no heat before he’s dipping his head to kiss Derek’s jaw happily. “This means we’re totally having sex. Score for Stiles Stillinski, I’ve snagged me a babe that’s gonna bang me. Man, I’m so lucky.”

“I need brain bleach.” Cora says from the doorway from the kitchen to the living room, looking sick.

—————————————

Stiles is pretty sure, like 99.99% sure in fact, that frequent making out has opened the door to Derek being a clingy octopus. He’s also pretty sure it’s lead to Derek reverting back to werewolf boundaries, as opposed to normal person boundaries. It’s why he’s not super surprised to wake up to the sound of his window opening and Derek climbing through it into his room.

“Stalker.” He mumbles as Derek drops onto the bed, wrapping around him like a weird wolf koala hybrid.

Derek grunts and shoves his face into Stiles throat without responding, so Stiles curls his fingers through his hair, scratching behind his ears.

“You know, my Dad has a gun. He might not ever kill you, but he’d totally shoot you in the foot if he saw this.”

“He’s at work.” Derek shrugs, uncaring despite earlier fears about Stiles’ Dad murdering him with wolfsbane bullets. Stiles’ Dad agreeing to Derek being Stiles’ heat partner without much of a fuss had apparently eased a lot of Derek’s worries.

“You still coulda used the door. Using the window is weird.” He says, and he knows Derek knows he doesn’t mean it, because Stiles is pretty fond of Derek being there always, especially as his heat gets closer and closer.

“If I’d used the door you’d be complaining right now about me making you get out of bed to answer it.” Derek points out and okay, yeah, point.

“Y’know, we’ve got at _least_ four hours before my Dad gets home.” Stiles says, rapidly changing the subject. He waggles his eyebrows and slides a hand up under Derek’s shirt, grinning at the older boy.

Derek pulls his face out of Stiles’ neck just enough for Stiles to see his raised eyebrows.

“Your point is?” Derek asks, and his tone is carefully neutral. Stiles isn’t sure what exactly that tone means, but he’s going to plow forward with his point anyway.

“My _point_ is that that is totally enough time to fool around. I’m a sexually frustrated omega Derek, you’re supposed to be satisfying my needs.”

“Yeah, no, it doesn’t actually work that way. At least, not until you’re actually in heat. I don’t have to fuck you just because you’re horny Stiles.” Derek says and he looks so serious, but Stiles can tell that he’s totally amused. He thinks Stiles and his needs are _funny_ , the _jerk_.

“Don’t be a jerk.” Stiles says, moving his hand back up to Derek’s head so he can curl both hands around Derek’s ears. Stiles is maybe minorly obsessed with them. He can’t be blamed, they’re damned adorable. “I just- I dunno, I don’t want my first time to be during heat. I’ve heard it can be kinda shitty, and I won’t really be all there, and I’ll be miserable.”

Stiles likes to think he’s practically fluent in the language of Derek’s facial expressions, but he’s not quite sure what to make of the one Derek’s making now. Finally though, Derek nods.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Stiles asks, because seriously, that answer tells Stiles nothing.

“Okay. Your first time won’t be during heat.”

“So romantic. I feel like I’m in a movie.” Stiles deadpans and ducks the light smack to the top of his head.

“If you want a lot of romance you should probably date someone else.” Derek says, a weird tone to his voice.

Stiles rolls his eyes, pulls Derek in by ears and kisses him soundly.

“Romance is for losers anyway. I’d rather act like an old married couple with you anyway.”

Derek smiles at Stiles’ words, his weird front bunny teeth showing and Stiles can’t help it, he leans in again to smack a ridiculous kiss to Derek’s lips and lick those dumb teeth.

———————————————

Derek shows up the next afternoon, less than a half hour after Stiles’ Dad has left for work.

“Look at who finally figured out how to use a door.” Stiles says when he opens the door to find him on his porch.

“I’ve always known how to use a door, jesus.” He’s scowling so hard that Stiles just knows he’s nervous.

“Stop looking like you wanna kill me, I’m not feeling the Stiles love here.” Stiles says as he grabs onto Derek’s hand and drags him into the house.

“Why did I agree to have sex with you?” Derek questions, but he already seems to be relaxing slightly, his shoulders losing a bit of tension and his scowl turning from murderous to just irritated.

“Because I smell _delicious_.”

Derek puts on a show of looking like he’s thinking and shakes his head. “No, that’s not it.” He says and lets Stiles drag him in for a kiss.

“Soo, you ready to pop my cherry?” Stiles asks with a waggle of his eyebrows and a delighted laugh at Derek’s pained groan. He likes it when Derek sounds like Stiles’ ridiculousness physically pains him.

“I hate you.”

“Such lies.” Stiles says, opening his mouth to tell Derek he knows the guy adores him but getting cut off by Derek’s mouth against his.

Huh. Stiles thinks he can live with that. Especially when Derek nudges him towards the couch, drops onto it and drags Stiles down so he’s straddling him.

Derek’s hands are everywhere, running up along Stiles’ side and over his back and across his throat and in his hair and it’s a little overwhelming. In the best way, of course, but still, it feels like more than what Stiles expected. He’d expected the touching, yeah, but he hadn’t expected it to feel quite like this. He hadn’t expected his heart to feel like it’ll fly out of his chest when Derek drops his head into the crook of his throat and sucks a mark there.

“There should totally be less clothes in this situation.” Stiles mumbles, sounding breathless to his own ears. He’s suddenly very focused on getting Derek’s skin against his skin, hooking his hands underneath the hem of Derek’s shirt and pushing it up.

Derek shushes him, literally makes little “shhh” noises and nudges his nose to Stiles’ jaw, catching Stiles’ hands with his own to still them.

“Hey, there’s no reason to rush this. We’ve got plenty of time.”

“Patience isn’t exactly my virtue.”

“You’re the one that said you didn’t want this to be like heat. I’m making sure it’s not.” Derek says, sounding serious and determined and god, Stiles kind of melts, because that’s so stinking sweet he can’t even handle it.

“Okay, okay, slow it is. Slowwww.” He drags the word out, sliding his hands up so his fingers can curl into the hair behind Derek’s ears.

“Slow.” Derek agrees solemnly and kisses the tip of Stiles’ nose. Then he’s pushing Stiles up and standing after him. “C’mon, I’m gonna cook you dinner.”

“You’re going to cook me dinner?” Stiles questions, hoping he doesn’t look quite as incredulous as he feels. “Cora told me you’re not allowed. That you almost burned down your kitchen. Twice.”

“Cora has a big mouth.” Derek says, but he doesn’t deny what Stiles just said.

“No way, big bad, you are not burning down my kitchen. I’ll cook. _I_ can cook like a motherfucking champion.” He says and Derek has the brains to nod in agreement and follow Stiles into the kitchen.

***  
Two hours later Stiles is filled with delicious pasta and has managed to get Derek to relocate to his bed so that he can lay on top of him and lazily make out. It’s actually kind of perfect and Stiles has decided that Derek’s insistence on slow is alright by him.

He decides after ten more minutes that he’s okay with slow, but not glacial so he creeps his hands under Derek’s shirt, slides his palms up his sides and drags his nails back down, grinning into the kiss at the noise Derek makes in the back of his throat.

“Hey, hey, I really really like you and I wanna suck your dick.” Stiles says, because he has absolutely zero tact. It has the desired effect though, Derek’s breathing does something weird and he looks at Stiles with _want_. It’s kind of fantastic, it makes him feel like the sexually alluring creature that everyone seems to believe omegas are supposed to be, the one Stiles has never, a day in his life, felt like. “Does that sound okay?”

“Yeah- Yes- I mean, if you’re sure.” Derek says before kissing Stiles hard.

“Totally sure.” Stiles says after another lapse in talking for a few minutes of kissing. “Now lay back and prepare to have your world _rocked_.”

He hums approvingly when Derek listens, flopping back onto the bed and letting Stiles straddle his legs. Stiles has never sucked a dick, but he’s hoping a life long oral fixation will help him here, or that instincts will lead him or _something because he wants to do this, wants to make it good for Derek. He’s sort of terrified of being bad at it, to be honest._

It turns out, his fears are for nothing, because the second he’s got Derek’s pants pulled down and his mouth around his dick Derek lets out this bit back sort of whimpering noise, whole body going tense like he’s trying not to buck up into Stiles’ mouth.

Stiles pulls off with a grin, looking up at Derek. “I’m the _best_ at sucking dick.” He says smugly and Derek looks at him with an expression that communicates _’You’re an asshole’_ pretty perfectly.

Stiles just pats his thigh in a _there there_ gesture and ducks his head to take Derek back into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks and sucking for all he’s worth. Derek fucking whines and Stiles hums approvingly, can’t help but feel terribly proud of himself when that causes Derek’s tightly held control to slip a little and he jerks his hips up, fingers clenched tight in Stiles’ bedspread.

“I thought- I thought you hadn’t done this before.” Derek mumbles, stumbling over his words when Stiles licks a stripe up the vein on the underside of his dick and tongues at the slit.

“I haven’t. Trust me, your dick is totally the first dick my mouth has come into contact with. That _any_ of me has come into contact with.”

"Then how are you so _good_ at it?” Derek asks and Stiles has to resist the urge to preen. He fails, there is definitely some preening as Stiles nuzzles his nose into the crook where Derek’s thigh meets his pelvis.

“Lots of porn, a pretty detailed guide on tumblr, being an omega and thus born to take dicks in whatever way. Y’know, in some countries, the omega sex slave trade is _huge_ because of that? Hell, in some places in America it’s huge. We’re not as developed as we like to think, Sacramento’s close and they’re one of the biggest sex trafficking cities in the US.”

“Stiles, _please_ don’t talk about depressing things in bed?” Derek looks like he’s summoning up vast amounts of patience. He also still looks terribly turned on, flushed and a little breathless. Stiles wants to kiss him. Instead he sucks a mark into his hip, watches it disappear before his eyes as Derek’s healing takes care of it.

“So I shouldn’t start a discussion about how Michigan is still having a water crisis or anything like that?”  
  
“Please don’t.”

“Gotcha big guy.”

"Thank you.” Derek says, the words turning into a groan when Stiles sucks him down again, taking as much of him into his mouth as he can and using his hand to wrap around the rest. He’s pretty curious about deepthroating, but he also has no desire to gag and nearly throw up on Derek’s dick. That’s not sexy.

Ignoring curiosity isn’t Stiles’ strong suit, so he pulls back for a moment, says “stay super still, okay?” before diving back in and taking Derek’s dick in as far as possible, until it bumps the back of his throat. He gags once, has to pull back before trying again but he thinks he kindasorta gets the hang of it.

Derek’s letting out a steady stream of _“fuck fuck fuck, oh my god, fuck”_ and tearing holes into Stiles’ bedspread with his claws so yeah, he’s at least doing something right.

Stiles gets sort of lost in it, in the weight of Derek on his tongue and lips, the noises he’s making and the feel of his skin beneath his hands. It’s weirdly easy to just zone out and enjoy it, and he’s not sure exactly how long he’s at it before Derek’s saying “I’m gonna- fuck, I’m gonna” and coming in his mouth.

Stiles swallows on reflex and then Derek’s grabbing at him, dragging him and pulling him into a kiss that’s uncoordinated but somehow perfect.

“You’re so damn perfect.” Derek says, sounding so awed it makes Stiles a little uncomfortable.

“Sappy wolf is sappy.” Stiles says, unable to be too serious. The way Derek’s looking at him is too intense, too much like Stiles is the most incredible thing he’s ever seen and he’s afraid if he lets go Stiles will slip away. “You better be able to get it up again before my Dad gets off work. What I’ve read about werewolf and alpha stamina better not be a lie.”

“Yeah, I don’t think it’ll be a problem.” Derek says, eyes tracing over Stiles. Stiles will deny to his last breath that that doesn’t make him blush. “Hands and knees.” He adds after a moment and Stiles’ eyebrows shoot up.

“What? Why?” Stiles asks, and because Derek is a _dick_ he doesn’t answer, just smacks lightly at Stiles’ flank and stares at him until Stiles’ obeys, shuffling around until he’s on his knees, leaned forward and braced on his forearms.

Derek spends long moments running his hands in long stripes over Stiles’ back, occasionally digging his fingers into the muscles and working out knots or skimming lower over his ass before moving on and continuing over his back again. Just when Stiles is convinced that’s all this is going to be, Derek spreads his asscheeks apart and _holy hell_ , there’s his _mouth_.

Stiles does not whine, especially not a high pitched _keening_ whine. He might however admit to the “fuck.” he lets out when Derek goes from a broad lick across his hole to doing something that involves pointing his tongue and lets out a noise like this is the best thing he’s ever done.

“Holy shit. Oh my god. That’s good, oh my god that’s good. Keep- Yeah, just keep doing that _oh my god Derek_.” He babbles, unable to keep himself from pushing back a little, trying to get more. “More, more, please more, oh my god.”

Derek seems to be aiming to please because a finger joins his tongue, working in and out of him with it and Stiles is pretty sure he’s devolved to saying strings of syllables instead of words, rocking back as Derek works up to two fingers and then three.

“Okay, okay, I’m ready. C’mon, I’m ready.” He says, pushing back into Derek’s fingers and whining “Please” when Derek doesn’t seem inclined to stop working him open with his mouth and fingers. _“Please, please, please, please.”_

“Hey, shh, I’m gonna.” Derek assures, using the hand that’s not currently occupied with Stiles’ ass to pet over his side. “Condom?”

“No, it’s fine, I got my shot like a week ago. There will be no mini-Stiles-Derek spawns for quite some time yet. We’re safe. C’mon, fuck me, _now_.” He insists, shoving back against Derek’s fingers impatiently.

“So impatient.” Derek says, but he sounds amused and then his fingers are gone and Stiles is making a protesting noise, feeling too empty before it’s being replaced by the feel of Derek’s cock.

He’s trying to go slow, Stiles can tell, because it’s just the tip so far and he’s gone tense and tight behind him, hands gripping Stiles’ hips tightly. Stiles is having none of that though, and shoves backwards until Derek slides home.

“ _Fuck._ ” He breathes, going taunt at the intrusion.

“Are you okay?” The words sound strained, like it’s taking Derek a huge amount of effort to reign himself in, but Stiles has no doubt that if he said _no_ the older boy would pull out, baby him for the rest of the night and that’d probably be the end of the sex thing until heat.

"Yeah. Yeah. Just give me a second. Shit. It’s a lot. I didn’t- I don’t know, I didn’t expect it to be- This much?”

“Alphas aren’t meant to be small?"

“No shit.” Stiles laughs, and it makes his body shift, makes Derek shift inside of him and it doesn’t feel so weird anymore. He moves experimentally, rolling his hips back against Derek and yeah, yeah, he can definitely handle that. “Okay, okay, you can move now.” He says, and he can practically feel the relief rolling off of Derek that he doesn’t need to stay still any longer.

Derek starts with slow, easy thrusts, the first few feel good, and they keep getting better after that, Derek’s hands on his hips dragging him into Derek’s thrusts in counterpoint. At some point something changes, Derek hits something inside Stiles and he cries out. “FUCK! There, there, oh my god, whatever you just did _keep doing that._ ” He demands, and Derek only seems happy to oblige.

Derek seems happy to give Stiles whatever he wants, to be honest. When Stiles begs for _“harder, harder, oh my god, harder, I’m not fucking china Derek, you can fuck me harder than that”_ he obeys, and when Stiles slumps forward, bites into the pillow with _“Faster, oh god, just a little bit faster, please please please **Derek** ” _absolutely wrecked, well, he speeds up his thrusts, hands a bruising pressure on Stiles’ hips as he fucks into him. Stiles is going to have bruises on his hips, and the back of his spine and neck where Derek’s been mouthing, but he can’t find it in him to be anything other than _elated_ over that.

Everything seems to build up until Stiles feels like he’s about to fall off the edge, hurtling towards orgasm and he has to squirm to get his hand around his dick, stroking just twice before he’s coming his goddamn brains out, pressing his face into the pillow to muffle his shouted _“Derek.”_

Derek seems undone by Stiles’ orgasm, at the way Stiles clenches around him, and his teeth dig into Stiles’ shoulder in a way Stiles knows will leave a mark as he spills into him.

After, Derek nudges and tugs at and manhandles Stiles until they’re both laid out in the bed, out of the wet spot with Stiles draped over Derek. Stiles feels boneless and satisfied, happy just to lay there for a moment and nuzzle at Derek’s chest, rub his face into Derek’s chest hair and feel it against his cheek.

“You’re a bossy shit in bed.” Derek mumbles, hand rubbing up over Stiles back over and over again. He doesn’t sound displeased though, more fond and a little comedrunk than anything.

“Mmmhmm, you liked it.” Stiles says, tries to sound assured of himself instead of questioning.

“Yeah. Yeah, I did.”

“I knew it.” Stiles would crow and dance about about being right, but his limbs feel like jelly and it’s really too much effort. The statement feels like enough, and he falls silent for a moment, his next words a quiet “Thank you.”

Derek only hums a noise that Stiles takes to mean _‘You’re welcome’_ , doesn’t ask what he’s being thanked for or try to discuss it and Stiles is thankful. He’s not sure he wants to explain that he’s thankful Derek did this with him now, that he made sure his first time was like this, when Stiles was still entirely himself instead of crazy and mindless with heat.

Stiles passes out on top of Derek, his face smushed into Derek’s chest and Derek’s arms tight around him.  
—————————————————  
When Stiles wakes up next, it’s to realize he slept straight through the night and Derek is sill there, though their position has changed to spooning, Derek pressed all along Stiles’ back with his arms around him and his face against Stiles’ neck. Stiles is like 99% sure the guy is drooling on him, and he’s making some seriously adorable snuffling noises in his sleep.

Stiles thinks it’s kinda perfect.

At least, until his Dad clears his throat from where he’s standing in Stiles’ doorway. The doorway containing the door that Stiles totally forgot to close the night before, because he hadn’t planned on falling asleep before his Dad got home, hadn’t planned on Derek _still being here_ when he got home.

Stiles lifts a hand and waves awkwardly, whispers “Uh, hi Dad.” and wiggles out of Derek’s grip, sparing a fond look when the older boy rolls into the spot Stiles just vacated and smashes his face into Stiles’ pillow.

"So.” Dad says, once they’re safely in the kitchen and Stiles is rooting around the freezer until he can find the package of bacon he hid in the very back underneath the giant bag of cauliflower. He’s not above bribing his Dad.

“Soooo.” Stiles replies, because he’s not starting this conversation. He is so not initiating this.

"Did you at least use protection?” John asks, looking so terribly uncomfortable that Stiles feels a little bad for him.

“Oh my _god_ , Dad, I got my shot already. Don’t worry, you’re not gonna be a grandpa anytime soon.”  
He frowns at the bacon as he unwraps it and sticks it in the microwave to defrost. He hates his Dad eating the junk but desperate times call for desperate measures. “I’m bribing you with bacon so that you don’t shoot my boyfriend for like, taking my virtue or whatever it is you think he did.”

“Jesus christ Stiles, I’m not going to shoot your boyfriend.”

“You could. We Stillinski’s are impulsive beasts, you might get impulsive and bam, Derek’s been shot. I’ve gotta get this trait from somewhere.”

“Your mother.” John says immediately, shaking his head. “I spent six months deciding whether or not to propose and how, meanwhile she decided within a week of meeting me at sixteen that I’d be her mate. You _definitely_ get it from your mother.”

“Good to know.” Stiles says, lips curving up into a small, sad smile at the detail about his Mom.

_————————————_

They go on three more dates before Stiles’ heat is supposed to hit. On the last one, when Stiles’ emotions are high and his hormones going out of control they argue for ten minutes over which movie to see and Stiles stalks out of the theater, frustrated and emotional and pissed the fuck off at Derek and his dumb face.

He’s not sure where he even intends to go. It’s not like he has his jeep with him. Derek drove them, and home isn’t anywhere close to walking distance. Besides, it’s not particularly safe for an overly emotional omega to be walking on the side of the road, even Stiles knows that. So he just sort of stalks across the parking lot, finds an island and plops his ass down on a curb, arms crossed in front of his chest while he stews.

He hates this, hates the way he feels like he’s going _insane_ because of his emotions, and the low level burn under his skin that means his heat is coming and it’s coming _soon_. He knows, he really does, that he shouldn’t be taking this out on Derek, but well, Derek is there, and he argues a little bit back, but for the most part he just kind of takes it, deals with Stiles’ mood swings and his sarcastic comments and his need to start a fight like a fucking _champion_.

Stiles is grateful, which just serves to piss him off even more.

Derek lets him stew for what feels like an eternity but is really probably less than ten minutes before he finds Stiles, holding his hands out to help the younger boy up.

“C’mon, we’re going somewhere.”

“What? Where? _Why_?” Stiles questions, confused by the apparently sudden change in plans. “I thought we were going to a movie.”

“Change of plans. You need a break, or else you’re going to drive yourself insane and rip my head off in the process.”

“Okay. That might be true.” Stiles agrees, letting Derek guide him to the car and into the passenger seat. “Take me away on this mystery adventure.” He gives a sweeping gesture with his arm, settling into his seat and making himself comfy.

It’s not until nearly 40 minutes later, when they’re driving down I-5 that he decides to question  
where the hell Derek is taking him. “Dude, where are we going? You’re not kidnapping me right? They’re not gonna find my body in the river somewhere after this?”

No, of course not. I’m just- You seem like you need a break. I’m just trying to make that happen.” Derek says, shrugging sort of helplessly. Stiles nods, lets that be that.

At least until a while later when he shoves at Derek’s shoulder repeatedly, gesturing to the exit ahead. “Exit! Take the exit! I want soup.”

“It’s _summer_.” Derek’s nose scrunches up in confusion and Stiles flails at him again, gesturing to the exit until Derek takes it.

“It’s an institution. Besides, you brought me on this little adventure, you damn well better buy me some soup. Me and Mom used to stop here all the time when we headed down this way.”

And well, Derek seems to melt at that, nodding and pulling into the parking lot. “I still don’t understand the fuss about it though.”

“Andersen’s is an institution.” Stiles says gravely and drags Derek inside.

An hour later, once Stiles is stuffed with soup and at least 4 glasses of soda and Derek has made him use the bathroom (Stiles had griped and called him grandpa for that), they’re on the road again. Stiles is still mystified as to where the hell they’re going, but he’s also a lot more relaxed than he was before. Leaving Beacon Hills behind for awhile seems to be doing the trick, and Stiles spends the rest of the ride leaning into the side of his door, passed the fuck out.

Derek shakes him awake later and Stiles comes to with a groan. “Where are we?” He asks, the question coming out slurred as he blinks his eyes open, glancing at Derek and then past him at “the beach? We’re at the beach?”

Derek suddenly looks nervous, shrugging his shoulders and standing back to let Stiles out of the car. “I just- I don’t know, I thought it might be a good idea. Cora said you talk about going a lot with your mom, when you two needed a break, and Mom used to bring me. I though it might help. It’s stupid, I know.”

“No, no!” Stiles says quickly, reaching out to snag both of Derek’s hands in his own. “It’s perfect. It’s great.” He squeezes Derek’s hands, trying to make that nervous look go away.

Once it has he makes a point of taking a look around, taking in the parking lot they’re in, the little area for standing and looking at the beach just ahead with a pretty large bulletin board on it and the pathway that leads down to the beach, which is mostly empty in the early afternoon on a Tuesday. Stiles is kind of glad for that, likes the idea of it just being him and Derek.

“This is perfect.” He reiterates again, watching as Derek is now getting into the trunk and grabbing bags. “Did you stop for stuff? Did I sleep through you stopping for stuff?” He asks, because Derek has several walmart bags and Stiles can see what looks like towels and food in them.

“I figured if you were asleep I should let you sleep? You’ve seemed like you needed it.” Derek says, shrugging and shifting all of the bags onto one arm before he’s grabbing onto Stiles’ hand and leading him down the path and onto the beach.

“So, you just totally spur of the moment planned me an epic beach date?” Stile asks, grinning at the way Derek glances away at that, like he doesn’t quite want to meet Stiles’ eyes. “Oh my god, you did. You’re kinda perfect Derek Hale.” He says and stuffs his shoes into Derek’s arms once they reach the sand and it becomes harder to walk in them.

Derek takes them without complaint, because he’s totally smitten with Stiles. Stiles just knows it. He’s pretty sure Derek wouldn’t even deny it if he was accused of it. It’s kinda awesome.

“You brought food right?” He asks, once they’re down on the beach properly and Derek has spread out a blanket over the sand to sit on. Stiles plops down on it, close to the edge so that he can dig his feet into the sand and wiggle his toes.

"Do you have a black hole in there or something?” Derek asks, even as he hands Stiles two grocery bags filled with food.

“Heat preparation man, my doctor said it was normal-and totally important, actually- to chunk up right before. It’s to help with the massive calories that are going to be burned, or something.” He says, the last few words a little garbled around the handful of Doritos he’s shoved into his mouth.

He spends a moment eating chips and watching the waves crash onto the beach before he’s hopping to his feet and gesturing for Derek to get up with him. “C’mon, be cheesy and walk along the beach with me. We can do ‘if you’re a bird I’m a bird’ scene from The Notebook.”

“I refuse.” Derek says, though he’s standing without Stiles’ forcing him to, so he takes it as half an agreement.

“C’mon, say I’m a bird.”

“No. That movie is _awful._ ”

“That’s what’s so great about it. That’s why you have to tell me I’m a bird.”

“But you’re not a bird.” Derek says, at which point Stiles tackles him into the sand.

Derek will insist later that he let him, Stiles will insist that he managed it because Derek was distracted and wasn’t expecting his sweet kung-fu moves.

It’s four hours, several dozen selfies and at least eight attempts to push Derek into the ocean later before they leave the beach. And even then it’s not so much leaving the beach as making their way to the Hale beach house, because of course the Hale’s have one of those.

Stiles keeps wondering aloud how he managed to land a dude with enough money to have a _beach house._ Derek keeps reminding him it’s not _his_ beach house, or _his_ money, it’s his family’s.

He manages to get Stiles to shut up pretty quickly by tossing Stiles’ cell phone at him with a quick reminder of “You should probably call your Dad. Make sure he’s not freaking out because you’re not home yet. I don’t want to be shot because I kidnapped the Sheriff’s kid.”

Stiles groans, stretches out on the bed and exaggeratedly flails his arms around. “You’re the one who brought me out here, you should call.”

“Do you want your Dad to worry?” Derek asks, which hey, is not at all fair. Guilt tripping Stiles is so not cool. Still, it does get Stiles to pick up his phone and dial his Dad’s number, so maybe Derek just knows how to play Stiles like a fiddle.

“Heyyyyy Dad.” Stiles starts, doing his best to not sound like he’s up to no good, because he’s not, he’s being good, just three or so hours away from home with his hot older boyfriend and no sort of adult supervision. It’s fiiiine. “You at work?” He asks, because at work means not alone and unable to yell at Stiles to the full extent he’d be able to at home.

 _“Yeah. What’s going on?”_ Shit, he already sounds suspicious.

“Nothing! Nothing’s going on. I just figured you should know I might not be home when you get home. Since y’know, I’m a mature, reasonable human who lets you know these things. Yep, mature and reasonable, that’s me.”  
  
_“…Stiles.”_

“Yeah Dad?”

_“Why won’t you be at home?”_

“Cause I’m in Monterey?”

 _“And why are you in Monterey?”_ His Dad’s voice sounds patient, _too_ patient, the way that he’s only managed to make it after 16 years of dealing with Stiles as a son and 6 of those years trying to do it on his own.

Stiles kinda feels bad for the guy, to be honest.

“Because Derek brought me? I swear we’re not doing anything wrong! I was just going kinda crazy, like really crazy. I almost walked home in a weird irrational crazy omega fit. It was awful. I think he thought it’d help to get away for a little bit? And it did, is helping. I just needed a break Dad, like bad. Sorry I didn’t tell you before we left, please don’t ground me or threaten to shoot my crazy hot boyfriend? Who apparently has a family rich enough for a _beach house_. You didn’t tell me they were that rich Dad. _Cora_ didn’t tell me either.” He was so going to have to complain at Cora for not telling him. They were going to have words.  
  
“Stiles, kid, slow down. I’m not going to ground you, or threaten to shoot Derek. It’s- I’m not happy about you just up and running three hours away, but if that’s what you had to do to deal with all the shit happening with you right now, then I guess I’ll deal with it.”

“Thanks Dad. I think I needed it. I felt like I was gonna murder someone, and then you’d have to lock up your own kid. This has gotta be way better.”  
  
_“I definitely prefer this to putting you in handcuffs, kid.”_

“Figured as much. Hey, how cool is it that the Hale’s have a beach house though? Like, they have _two houses._ I totally bagged myself a rich possible mate.”

Stiles practically beams at the sound of his Dad’s groaning over the line. _“You’re still sixteen. It’s not the time for mate talk yet.”_

“Alright, alright, got it. Hey, Dad?”  
  
_“Yeah, Stiles?”_

“I think I’m gonna pass out on the Hale’s super comfy bed. I’ll talk to you tomorrow alright?”  
  
_“Alright.”_

“Love you Dad.”  
  
_“Love you too kid.”_

——————  
_Of course,_ Stiles heat decided to hit midway home from Monterey. _Of course._ Stiles is pretty sure this is just his luck.

At first he’s not even aware it’s his heat, just feels uncomfortably warm and cranks up the AC in Derek’s car until he can see Derek shivering a little in his seat. His fixation on Derek’s hands and arm muscles is pretty normal too, because Stiles has a hot boyfriend and takes plenty of time to appreciate that fact.

It’s not until he’s thinking some very detailed thoughts about Derek’s fingers in his ass, wiggling in his seat to try and get some sort of friction that the thought occurs that maybe, just _maybe_ his heat started a little earlier than he’d thought it would.

Derek straight up confirms it when he says “fuck, you’re in heat.” and is very clearly doing his best to breathe through his mouth to avoid a huge hit of Stiles’ omega pheromones.

“No shit Sherlock.” Stiles mutters, shifting his hips restlessly and fuck, he’s totally looking at Derek’s crotch like it’s a popsicle on a hot summer’s day, isn’t he? “You should pull over and let me blow you. Like now, right now. Or even better, fuck me in the backseat. That’d be _awesome_.” Stiles says, suddenly aware of the fact that he’s hot and sweaty and needed Derek’s dick in some part of him like _yesterday._

“No. Stiles, I’m not fucking you in my car on the side of the fucking freeway, jesus christ.” Derek looks a little pained as he says the words, but not in the normal ‘Stiles you’re ridiculous’ way, more in a ‘I’m seriously turned on, this is awful’ way, and Stiles is a little proud of that. Or at least, part of him is, the squirming omega part that just wants to be fucked. The lesser part, the small, reasonable _Stiles_ part is slightly mortified that he’s mid heat begging for Derek’s dick in the Camaro.

"Just a quickie? I promise it wouldn’t take long.”

“ _No_. I’m calling your Dad to let him know we’re on the way and that you’re, uh, indisposed.”

“Buzzkill.” Stiles mutters, even if he knows it’s a better idea to not have sex in the car. He even wraps his hands around his knees to prevent himself reaching over to grab Derek’s dick, because yeah, that’s a temptation he hadn’t foreseen being quite as strong as it is.

Derek, because he follows the law even when Stiles is literally _melting from heat_ , is dialing his Dad on speakerphone. He huffs a sigh that sounds relieved when John answers within two rings, voice a little fuzzy with sleep as he says _“Derek?”_

“Sir, there’s uh, there might be a bit of a problem.”

 _“What’s wrong?”_ His Dad suddenly sounds alert, his voice turning into what Stiles likes to mentally refer to as his Overprotective Alpha Voice.

“Stiles, well he, uh, he started his heat early. We’re on our way home, maybe about an hour out.”

 _“Shit.”_ Stiles can hear the rush of air his Dad lets out, hates the fact that he’s worrying the poor guy. _“You think you’ll make it home alright, son?”_

“Yeah- I mean, I don’t have any other option, right? Stiles can’t exactly ride out his heat on the side of the road.” Derek says, and Stiles whines in apology, rubbing his cheek against the headrest. Derek sounds awful and Stiles wants to make him feel better, preferably with his hand on his dick. “Stiles, no.” Derek’s voice cuts through, sharp, as his fingers wrap around Stiles’ wrist, stilling his hand from the progression it was making towards Derek’s dick.  
  
_“Flick his nose. I’m tellin ya, it’ll work. He’ll yell at you for treating him like a cat, but it used to work with Claudia.”_

“I- Thank you, Sir. Can you make sure the heat room is ready? Or call Laura or my Mom and have them do it? I know it’s supposed to be my job, but it’s kind of an emergency.”  
  
_“Of course. Just make sure he gets home alright. Good luck.”_ With that his Dad hangs up, and Stiles is left listening to the sound of Derek’s breathes and his blood pumping overly loud in his ears.

“I don’t see why we can’t just pull over.” Stiles mumbles, hands moving restlessly over his knees. He wants, he wants so fucking badly, but Derek won’t let him touch, he knows that much.

“Because you’ll bitch at me like crazy once you’re 100% you again.” Derek says, shaking his head at Stiles.

“Lies. I’d never bitch at you for being a good alpha and fucking me real good.” Stiles says, grinning smugly when the car swerves.

“Still not happening.” Derek mutters.

It’s a _long_ drive home.

At some point Stiles loses track of time. He feels like his brain is melting out his ears, his blood too hot in his veins and his heart beating too fast. Everything’s just a daze of _too hot, too much, not enough_ until he feels arms hooking under his back and knees and he’s pressing his face into Derek’s throat, mouthing at the skin there mindlessly.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry you had to wait so long.” His voice is soothing, pitched low and suddenly Stiles is on a bed. He’s not sure when they moved, doesn’t remember walking through the house, but he wiggles happily on the bed, making grabby hands at Derek.

“C’mere. C’merecmerecmere.” He chants, wriggling to try and get out of his pants, to try and grab Derek so he can get a hand or his mouth on his dick at the same time.

“I’m here, shhh, I’m here.” Derek says, voice still low and it makes Stiles want to curl up in it, makes him want to _jerk off_ to it or hear it go wrecked with Stiles’ mouth around his dick. “C’mon, lets get you out of these.” He’s saying and he’s suddenly right there, a reassuring pressure on top of Stiles as he manages to fit his hands between them and get Stiles out of his clothes with a lot more ease than Stiles has been having with his own attempts at it.

Stiles sighs in relief as he’s stripped out of his many layers, though it only lasts as long as it takes him to realize that Derek’s still dressed. “C’mon, c’mon, you too. Less clothes, clothes are bad Derek.” Stiles says, sliding his hands under Derek’s shirt to feel over the smooth skin. “You should never wear clothes.”

“They’re kinda a necessary part of- of life.” Derek trips over his words when Stiles scratches a blunt nail across his nipple and Stiles preens with pride. He’s distracted from trying it again though when Derek strips out of his own clothes and then they’re both gloriously naked and Stiles can press his whole body up into Derek’s.

Everything still feels too hot and fuzzy, and there’s still this incessant _need_ under his skin but just being pressed closed to Derek, the flesh against flesh is helping. It’s good, but it’s not enough. Stiles _needs._

“C’mon, fuck me? I was good, right? I did so good on the way here, didn’t I? I deserve it?” Stiles hardly recognizes his own voice, he sounds so desperate and unsure.

“Yeah. Yes. Jesus, yes, you were good. So good, Stiles.” Derek’s tone has gone reassuring, his hands sliding down, down, _down_ Stiles’ body until they’re at Stiles’ ass and a finger is working itself into him.

Stiles gasps, pressing back into it, trying to get _more_. “More.” Stiles pants, because nothing feels like enough right now. “More, more, more. I can take it, you don’t have to be careful, I’m pretty much biologically built to take it.”

Derek huffs an exasperated sigh at Stiles. “I don’t- I can’t hurt you, so let me take care of you and do this as carefully as the situation’ll allow, okay?” He says, though he’s somewhat listening to Stiles and adding another finger, scissoring them apart and then curving until he hits that spot that makes Stiles go all shivery.

Stiles preens internally, his heat brain oh so proud of himself for picking such a _good alpha_ who wants to take care of him. He tips his face up for a kiss that Derek easily gives and Stiles sinks into, making low, pleased noises in his throat as he lets himself ride out all of the hyper intense sensations.

Two fingers increases to three and then they’re gone and Stiles is so fucking _empty_. It’s awful and Stiles it too far gone to keep from whining at the loss. Derek makes soothing shushing noises and peppers kisses to Stiles’ cheeks apologetically. “I got you, I got you. C’mon, roll over for me.” He instructs, guiding Stiles over onto his hands and knees. Stiles arches his back, presenting to try and tempt his alpha to hurry the hell up and fuck him already. During any other time he’d probably be embarrassed by his behavior, but maybe that’s the bright side to heat. There’s not really any shame to anything, just _want._

Big hands clutch Stiles’ hips, anchoring him as Derek thrusts inside and draws a gasping moan out of Stiles.

“ _Fuck_. Fuck yes, c’mon, _fuck me_.” Stiles babbles as Derek does just that, setting a quick, brutal pace until Stiles is practically sobbing with it.

Stiles scrabbles at the sheets, barely aware of the hitching moans falling from his lips. All he can focus on is Derek’s cock and the bruising grip he’s got on Stiles’ hips, the near growling noises that sound like they’re being wrenched from Derek’s throat. And then, then he feels it, like something’s expanding and Derek’s thrusts are getting ragged and fuck, Stiles knows what that means and he wants it.

“That’s it, that’s it. C’mon, knot me, c’mon, fuck, do it, c’mon, please please please _please_.” He begs and Derek gives him exactly what he asks for, grinding into Stiles as his knot expands. Derek’s teeth bite into the side of Stiles’ neck hard enough to bruise and Stiles keens, coming just like that in messy pulses.

Stiles goes lax, drooping until his face is pressed into the mattress. He’s pretty sure the only things holding him up are Derek’s hands and dick, but he doesn’t even care. He feels well fucked and boneless, and most importantly, his head feels clearer than it has since this all started somewhere on the freeway. He knows that feeling won’t last though, that it’s only the beginning of his heat.

Derek oh so gently rearranges them, tugging and pushing at Stiles until they’re curled up on their sides. Derek’s arms are tucked firmly around Stiles, his face pressed tightly into the back of Stiles’ head and his nose presses into Stiles’ head a bit awkwardly which isn’t the most comfortable thing in the world but Stiles can’t even find it in himself to complain.

“Attack of the cuddle wolf.” Stiles mumbles and pats at Derek’s forearm. “Y’know, I get what you were doing with the position cause this is way more comfortable than how we would have had to be if we’d done it face to face, but the not being able to kiss you easily part is lame.”

“Shhhhh.” Derek insists. “Nap time.”

“Not tired.” It’s a boldfaced lie, punctuated by the fact that Stiles yawns immediately after his words. Rationally, he knows he needs to take the chance to rest, he’s read the books on how heats work, has seen the health class videos, and knows that it’s only going to get worse from here on out. Moments of lucidity will end up few and far between by the time the first day is over though and he has the gut urge to embrace this moment while he has it. “Talk with me instead?” Stiles asks, softer, and a bit more pleading than he wants.

“Yeah, okay, we’ll talk.” Derek says and tightens his arms around Stiles.

So they do, they talk until Stiles starts to lose it again. Until he starts to ache with the want and talking is lost for awhile again.

_————————_

When Stiles wakes for the first time after his heat has passed it’s to Derek climbing back into the bed carrying a tray laden with food. Stiles’ stomach takes the opportunity to growl loudly and embarrassingly. Stiles ignores any embarrassment and makes grabby hands at the food. Embarrassment should not be a thing after the past 3 days of his life. He should officially be cured of any such feeling.

“Oh my god, you’re the best ever.” He says when Derek sets the tray between them and Stiles can grab a bagel smothered in a mountain of cream cheese. “Seriously, best alpha. Like one of the ones in those cheesy alpha omega romance movies. Wait, did you get the idea from one of those? I bet you did. I bet you totally studied the movies in preparation for this. I bet it wasn’t even preparation. I bet you just like them. You’re totally the type to like alpha omega romances. I bet your netflix is filled with them. I bet you watch A Walk To Remember and cry like a baby when the omega chick dies at the end. It’s okay, I do too.” Stiles pats Derek’s shoulder consolingly with one hand and uses the other to shove the bagel into his mouth.

Derek stares at Stiles like he’s utterly ridiculous or some sort of scientific question that needs to be answered. Then, slowly, his lips curve upwards and his eyes crinkle in what looks like a relieved smile. “I’m really glad you’re you again.” He says, so sincerely that Stiles practically _melts_.

“Yeah, me too to be honest.” Not that he didn’t enjoy the whole Heat Experience™, because hey, the sex had been seriously great. He just really liked having all his wits about him and not being driven practically crazy with lust. At least, not any more than any young adult is generally driven crazy with lust on any given day. Plus it’s definitely nice to know the alpha he’s dating prefers the full 110% Stiles experience to the heat crazed omega one. Not that Stiles thinks there’s been a day in Derek’s life where anyone could think he’d be one of those knothead alphas who thinks omegas should be practically tied to a bed begging for alpha dick, but still, it’s nice to be reassured.

“You should drink some water. Rehydrate.” Derek says after a moment of silence, holding out a bottle of water.

“Yeah, I bet I lost a lot of fluids.” Stiles waggles his eyebrows and leers dramatically and Derek groans like he’s truly suffering.

_———————————_

Derek being away at college is weirdly harder than Stiles had expected. He’d expected to miss the dude, of course, because Derek is his boyfriend and the taker of his virginity and all of that stuff, but he hadn’t expected it to suck _this bad_.

He really hadn’t expected to curl up in bed with the phone pressed to his ear, listening to Derek talk about his classes and his roommates and feel like he’s got a fucking hole in his heart.

“I’m acting like one of those stereotypical omegas. Like I should be in a Taylor Swift song. Early T Swizzle, not newer. More You Belong With Me, less Bad Blood. Tell me to stop.”

 _“Okay, but if I tell you to stop, and you listen, does that make you even more of one?”_ Derek asks, and he sounds amused, the _asshole_.

“Jerk.” Stiles mumbles, but he’s smiling a little despite himself.

 _“Y’know, even if you were acting like a stereotypical omega, whatever the hell that means, there’s nothing wrong with that, right?”_ Derek asks, going serious. _“I kinda like that you miss me enough to mope.”_ He adds, voice soft like he’s admitting something he shouldn’t be. It makes Stiles smile, making his heart twist in weird ways.

“Hey, you still like me right?” Stiles asks, not because he doubts it, but because he wants to hear it.

 _“Yeah, Stiles, I still like you.”_ Derek says, sounding fond and Stiles’s smile just gets even bigger.

"Good, cause I still like you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me about fandoms on [tumblr](http://im-notlookingback.tumblr.com/)


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